The Strong One
by morgana07
Summary: As Dean struggles with dark thoughts & even darker actions, Sam must choose to be the strong one to save his brother or risk losing him back to Hell. Full Summary inside. Angsty!Suicidal Dean/Supportive!Brotherly Sam
1. Chapter 1

**The Strong On**

**Summary: **_Dean and Sam are still trying to recover from recent revelations and stress between them. Sam believes Dean isn't as strong as he once was. Dean believes this too and seeks to fix it by doing the only thing he sees possible. Can Sam be the strong one in time to save his brother? Or will it be too late for both Winchesters?_

**Warnings: **_Dark themes, implied suicide attempt. Also warning for language. Is not a death fic._

**Tags: **_Based in Season Four and between episodes 11(Family Remains) and 16 (On the Head of a Pin), also has reference to early episodes but the main tags are for the mentioned episodes. _

**Characters/Pairings: **_Angsty!suicidal Dean / worried!overly concerned!brotherly Sam. No pairings(ever)_

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own the boys or anything to do with the show. All that goes to Eric Kripke and the CW. I'm just an author who enjoys playing with them and I always put 'em back together._

**Author Note**: _I normally don't write dark themed fics but this one has been bubbling for awhile. Dean's always been the strong one. Even after returning from Hell, still held it together so I wanted to try a piece to show what would happen if Dean didn't hold it together after the events of 'On the Head of a Pin' and to show Sam being the strong one for Dean. Not sure how it'll come out but we'll see…_

**SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN**

**Chapter One**

He'd always been the strong one. From the night, his Father had put his infant brother in his arms and he carried him out of their burning house he'd been the strong one that Sam had depended on. Hell, in some cases he'd been the one his Father had depended on since John Winchester's emotional status wasn't the steadiest thing back in those days…something even his eldest son had to finally admit to.

Dean Winchester remembered always knowing that no matter what he was feeling or how much he wanted to sink into despair that he couldn't because he had to be the damn strong one. The one that his family depended on to be strong, to be there when they needed him to be even when Dean knew he was the last possible choice for that role.

He had to more often than not be the strong one to raise his little brother. He made certain from his earliest memory that Sam was always taken care of, that he had food. That he went to school and that the nosy people from school of CPS never found out that it was just him and his little brother in their lonely motel rooms as John was prone to leave them for weeks at a time. It took a strong person to do all that and not curl up at night like he had sometimes wanted to when the loss of nearly everything good in his life got to be too much to bear.

The elder Winchester brother admitted that on those nights he'd considered the very same thing he was considering now but back then he had one thing that would always stop him cold. A baby brother with huge hazel eyes that had a bad habit of knowing just when he was at his lowest point and Sam seemed to come looking for Dean on those nights with nightmares or fears of his own.

Dean could never complete the act knowing that it would also leave his innocent little brother alone with a Father who barely knew they existed except for when he needed or wanted them to do something.

Strong. The word used to mean something more to Dean than it does now. It used to be what he was when he had to forge papers so Sam could join Soccer or go on a school field trip. It also was what he needed to be when he had to stand between his ex-Marine Father and his equally stubborn brother when the fights got to be too ugly once Sam got older. Finally, being strong was what it took Dean to be when he had to allow Sam to get on that damn bus when he walked out on his family. It took every ounce of strength in Dean not to rip his own Father's heart out when he got back to the motel for telling Sammy if he walked out then never to come back because while John could survive without his sons, Dean wasn't sure he was strong enough to survive without his kid brother.

Staring at the bottle that was sitting next to him on the cold dirty bathroom floor of their latest motel room, Dean let his head fall back to rest on the side of the tub and he let his mind wander back to when it happened. To when the moment came when he stopped being the strong one.

He'd lasted four years without Sam though if he considered some of the injuries he'd sustained in those years, most of them caused by hunting alone, then maybe he hadn't been too successful. It became clear shortly after Sam left that unless it was really needed, John Winchester didn't need nor did he want his oldest son hunting with him. So Dean took the strength he'd learned to hunt on his own. He carried on the family tradition in his own way and usually only had bad moments a few times a year. Like on the anniversary of when their Mom had been killed or Sam's birthday.

Chuckling, Dean wondered if his brother would understand the hidden meaning behind the gift in the trunk of the Impala. He hoped he would but then he wasn't even certain if even knew the source of the mystery gifts back when he was in Stanford. Hell, Dean knew John would have been more pissed if he'd learned how much time he'd spent in California watching over Sam but if Dean still had to be strong then he'd be strong his own way.

Even after getting that garbled call from John while finishing up the job in New Orleans, Dean had kept the panic at bay. He wouldn't let anyone know how worried he was becoming and if he decided to go get Sam then that was his own damn choice but John was Sam's Dad too so he had a right to be part of looking for the old man.

"Even if it cost Sammy his happiness," Dean muttered, taking a long pull from the whiskey he'd been drinking all night.

Deep down, Dean admitted that if he'd never dragged Sam back into the life that maybe Jessica wouldn't have been killed but on his more rational days, he also accepted that the Yellow Eyed Demon had plans for his brother. Jessica was something that was in the way, something that needed to be wiped out in order to bring Sam back in and that if those hunter instincts hadn't forced Dean to turn around that night he might've lost his brother…he might've lost Sammy sooner than he had.

Ignoring the way his hands shook as he lowered the bottle, Dean remembered having the strength the handle looking for John, of handling the demons, vampires, Sam's freaky powers or visions, of nearly dying after the Impala was wrecked. He recalled the cold strength he felt after he realized what his Dad had done. How John had sacrificed his life for Dean's, his Dad's final words to him and the rage he soon felt at having that crap laid on him.

Being strong didn't allow for knowing that the baby brother you'd raised, that you'd loved all his life could become something Dean would have to kill if he couldn't save him. God knew he tried to be strong for Sammy. He tried to protect the kid from everything and everybody considering that crazy vampire hunter was trying for Sam's head at every turn.

"Give me Gordon these days," Dean missed the simple days of water spirits, Wendigos or shapeshifters. He missed it when it could just be him and Sam hunting evil sons of bitches without all the crap they had these days. He missed…Sammy.

The whiskey burned less the more he drank but that, he supposed, was the point of tonight as he looked between the bottle and the assortment of weapons laid out in front of him. Dean accepted his strength waned after holding Sam's cold lifeless body in Cold Oak when he'd been killed by that bastard Jake, another of the Yellow Eyed Demon's 'Special Kids' but he'd always had one damn job and he'd blown it by allowing Sam to get snatched right out from under his nose.

'Dad would be real proud of that,' he thought bitterly, remembering that it had been his idea to send Sam into that damn diner after pie so it was ultimately his fault when that Yellow Eyed scum bag grabbed his brother.

Dean swallowed the blame but not the loss and terror at going through life without his brother so in following the rules he'd grown up, the 'look after your brother, Dean' rule that John Winchester had laid down. He'd used every bit of strength to make the deal that left him a year to live but gave Sam back his life and then Dean found himself having to be very strong. Not just for Sam but for himself.

Waking up every morning to put on the bright and chipper façade for Sam and Bobby hadn't been easy, not when most times Dean felt like crawling in a hole and screaming until he was hoarse but he knew it was time to be the strong one again. He couldn't let Sammy see how scared he was at thought of going to Hell even if Dean knew his biggest fear was leaving Sam alone…or with that demon bitch.

Feeling the sour taste come up in his mouth at the thought of Ruby, Dean took another swig of the bourbon he was mixing with the whiskey just as his cell phone rang. "Right on time, Sammy," he murmured, surprised that his voice was only slightly slurred after the amount of liquor he'd consumed but he knew without looking that it was his brother.

Sam had been out most of the day researching a possible new case, or what Dean had told him was a new case since he wanted the motel to himself for this moment but he'd been expecting the call.

Ever since the day that he'd told Sam about what he'd done in Hell, whenever Sam went out, he'd make it a point to call sometime. At first, Dean thought it was his brother's way of checking up on him since it wasn't a secret anymore that Dean was not anywhere near as strong emotionally as he'd once been and that irritated him nearly as much as what it seemed Sam was becoming.

Lifting the cell phone shakily, Dean considered answering it but just as quickly changed his mind to throw the phone into the empty sink to let the voicemail pick it up. He'd changed the message just for this purpose since he knew either way Sam would call for something and figured it would be better for him to hear it on the phone since even considering recent problems Sam could still make Dean feel those big brother instincts that would make him rethink this plan.

Listening as the ringing stopped, Dean pictured the typical bitch-face his brother probably had for getting the voicemail and grinned before remembering why he was sitting on the floor of a motel bathroom. His strength, the strong willed man who had raised his brother the best he could and who had chosen to go to Hell for him rather than live without him had finally lost the strength to go on.

Dean could pinpoint the night he knew he was losing that strength. Two nights before his deal came due had been the worst because Sam chose that night to get shitfaced plastered and start a damn bar brawl with three men way meaner than him.

He did not enjoy spending one of his last nights on Earth mopping the floor with three rednecks who had tried to stick a knife in his overly emotional kid brother and then spend the rest of it dealing with the fallout.

Sam was a great hunter but as Dean learned early on in life his brother was clingy and over emotional when drunk, sick, or upset. When he was all three, it was worse so while he felt like going to sleep to recharge for the days ahead when he'd have to face that dreaded moment of dying on Sam's twenty-fifth birthday, he had to handle a drunk raging little brother who hated the world.

Dean didn't hate the world. Hell, he didn't even hate Sam. He'd made the deal and he accepted it. He accepted his fate even as that door opened he felt the first Hellhound rip into him and he heard his brother scream for him. It was Sam he went to Hell willingly for and…

" 'When a righteous man sheds blood in Hell…'" the words that Alastair spoke still rung in his ears and Dean locked onto the moment when his vaunted strength finally failed him.

After thirty years in Hell…three damn months Earth time…after thirty years of being cut, ripped, tortured, tormented in ways that Dean refused to ever let his brother know the full details of his strength finally gave out and he…gave in.

The whiskey was emptied this time as Dean struggled to ignore the images that came back. The burning memory of what he did while in Hell. How he did to souls what had been done to him and even then he hadn't been completely free of torment. Oh, the rack was gone but as Dean learned, Alastair had other ways to hurt and humiliate.

Reaching for the razor sharp knife that had once belonged to John Winchester, Dean ran the edge over his thumb. He might have told Sam some things but there were other stuff that his brother would never learn and that included the real reason Dean gave in since the urge to protect was still there in him.

Since returning, since learning that Angels existed and that his formally meek, mild mannered little brother had gone pure hunter in the time he'd been gone, Dean quickly realized that he hadn't come back to the same Sam that used to idolize him as a kid.

This Sam was a man of his own making though Dean wasn't certain he liked who else had a hand in the making. This version of his brother was a lot stronger both emotionally and physically than Dean and he guessed it took Castiel telling him what Sam had done to Alastair to prove that to him.

Dean knew if he went along with Castiel and Uriel's plan to torture his former teacher in Hell that things would go bad. He just hadn't been prepared for how bad until it all went wrong and he realized how weak he really was. Now, barely two days free of a hospital he guessed he knew what it was time to do.

Looking to the sink, he wondered what Sam had thought of the voicemail message or if he'd even care. He used to think that Sam would call while out to check on him but it was after the mess with the Siren that Dean realized that Sam was calling not to check on Dean but to be sure it was still alright with Dean if he came back.

As if things weren't tense enough since Dean's return, that damn Siren had messed them up more. Both Winchesters had said stuff that had left each other raw and wary with each other but Sam was trying. Dean knew the signs of his brother being scared and he saw them now but knew that Sam would be better off alone or with…her.

He wasn't the brother that he'd once always been. He wasn't the man who Sam could turn to…hell that was clear or he wouldn't have turned to Ruby and he wouldn't have been hiding what he'd been doing from Dean.

He'd already opted against the pain meds since it was too easy for Sam to call 911 for an overdose so that left either his .45 or the blade and it had to be before his brother got back. Dean could almost hear the stern commanding tone of his father in his ear calling him a coward for taking the easy way out and almost laughed.

"No, sir, the easy way would be to ride it out. To try to live with the damn memories of what I did down there, what I was made to do and what was done to me," he spoke to the silent room, unaware of the burning tears that slid down his cheeks. Once again he saw Hell, he could hear the screams and he could hear Alastair…both down there and in that room before he busted loose. "I'm not as strong as you, Dad. You never gave in but then I was still doing your damn job when I did. Sammy's better off without me since we both know I'm more hindrance than help to him these days."

Swallowing the lump that formed, Dean was honestly surprised that he wasn't drunk yet since he'd been counting on that making this easier. Hearing his phone ring again made him frown since he wasn't counting on Sam calling back if he listened to the message and the tape. Just ignoring the call, he reached for the .45 finally to feel the familiar cool steel in his hand.

"I hung on to look after Sammy, well he made it pretty clear that he didn't need that from me anymore and I'll be damned if he'll ever find out the full truth or if it'll come down to me having to hurt him. It's best if I send myself back to Hell before we destroy each other," he whispered, lifting the weapon to his temple while closing his eyes. 'Take it easy, Sammy…'

**BANG**!

**TBC**

**A/N: **_This should be a 3 chapter piece but unlike Mirror Images these chapter won't be so long so it should be complete in a day or so…unless the reviews don't warrant it being continued (be kind…this is the first time I've chosen to write this sort of piece) and I swear on the Impala's wax job that Chapter 8 for Mirror Image will be coming soon._


	2. Chapter 2

**The Strong One**

**Chapter Two**

" '_You know it wasn't four months but more like forty years_…'"

Sam Winchester still cussed himself for not stopping the conversation the moment his older brother began it with those damn words.

Glowering at his unhelpful laptop, Sam felt like shoving it and the barely touched lunch off the table in the diner he'd been sitting in most of the day to do his research but curbed his impatience and blamed it on a lack of sleep, stress and never knowing which side of his brother he'd wake up to. The sullen moody who didn't want to talk at all side or the sullen, angry blame everything on what happened while he was in Hell side.

Things had been stressed ever since Dean finally decided to reveal some of the details about the four months he'd been…gone and Sam could cheerfully slam his head into the roof of the damn Impala for even pushing Dean for answers to something he clearly had not been ready to talk about.

Sam had quickly figured out when his normally strong willed, strong minded, independent older brother kept waking up screaming that something was wrong but he allowed himself to believe Dean's line about it just being exhaustion or Bobby's weak excuse that his brother was suffering some sort of latent PTSD.

The truth was, Sam didn't want to accept that his role model growing up, the man who had always been so strong for him, for their family, wasn't the same as he was before going to Hell…for Sam. He hated the thought that the big brother that he had wanted to be so much alike, the big brother that he still idolized had come back so broken and he knew he was still so far from understanding how broke Dean truly was. He hadn't known or suspected until after they had saved that family and Dean finally spoke and Sam knew he'd regret that moment for the rest of his life.

Finding out that while he'd thought the separation between them had been a mere four months for him but a brutal agony forty years for Dean had been hard to hear and Sam wished to God he had stopped Dean right there but he hadn't. He had let his already depressed, sullen traumatized brother relive in words about the thirty years he'd suffered endless torment before finally losing the will the fight and Sam knew right there was another of Dean's problems.

Dean had always been the strong one. He had always protected Sam as best he could, be it from bullies in school, to their own Dad at times but he had always been the strong one. The one people looked to when they needed something only this time it was Dean who had needed someone to be strong for him and he'd been alone. Alone in Hell to be tortured, to suffer through all of Alastair's torments until finally he couldn't fight it and he'd given up the strength that had made Dean Winchester the man he'd always been and in a way he was still lost.

Sam rubbed his eyes as all his research that Dean had sent him to do blurred together and he wished he could chuck it all but he didn't want to disappoint his brother more than he already seemed to have. Dean had withdrawn more from him since telling him what had happened in Hell and Sam wasn't certain if it was because he was ashamed at what he had done to survive while in the Pit or if he was still furious with the changes in Sam.

Ruby said it was the latter but then it had been Ruby who had pushed for Sam to get Dean to tell him about his time in Hell. 'It will help him start to heal' she'd told Sam who now rolled his eyes that thought. Telling him about Hell had made Dean worse because that night Sam was glad he'd refused to meet with Ruby or else he wasn't sure what would have happened.

Nodding to the waitress who refilled his ice tea once more, Sam remembered a familiar sense of childhood fear when he found his brother curled in the bathroom of their motel with the taps running to cover the sounds he was making. As a child he had known a lot of Dean's bravery and strength had been for his benefit since he remembered finding his idol like this then too. Only sitting beside him until Dean had become aware of Sam's presence usually pulled him back from the edge of what Sam would later come to understand was his brother's near attempts to take his own life.

Now though, Dean had closed himself off from Sam, which scared the younger man more than he wanted to admit. Sam had gotten used to being the strong one, of taking care of himself so it was hard after Dean first returned to slip back into the roles that Dean was more at ease with and that caused more stress since it left them more open to that damn Siren.

Reaching up to touch the faint mark that was still there from the knife his brother had held at his throat while under the Siren's control, Sam knew they were both still dealing with that mess since under its control both he and Dean had said things that probably would've been best left unsaid.

He didn't mean it when he had told his already emotionally reeling brother that he thought he was weak and that out of the two of them Sam was the better hunter. He hadn't meant any of the crap that he'd said, just like he knew that Dean hadn't meant what he had said but it also didn't mean that none of the words hadn't hurt. Sam was still glad that Bobby had shown up when he had but patching them up physically hadn't patched up all the emotional wounds.

They were still dealing with those on top of Pamela's death when the damn Angels decided to throw Dean's past back in his face by making him torture Alastair and Sam had known that whole plan was a bad idea.

Despite what he wanted to believe, what he needed to make himself think, the hunter in him knew that his brother just was not the man he once was. Dean was not strong like before and if he was forced to torture the very demon who had cut and sliced on him, who had probably done so much more since Sam wasn't foolish enough to think that Dean had told him everything about those thirty years, then another chunk of his brother would be destroyed and it had.

Wincing, Sam still didn't want to think about the hours he'd spent in that hard hospital chair while waiting for Dean to wake up nor did he want to remember how lifeless and bloody his brother had been in that damn room after Alastair broke free and nearly killed him. Of course, he'd never tell Dean about that. He'd just take his brother's bitter silence after Castiel informed Dean of how Sam dealt with the demon who had dealt such pain to his brother in Hell and wish that he could have caused him half of what Dean must have felt but despite what Ruby often encouraged, Sam wasn't that cold.

Automatically reaching for his wrist where he once wore a black rubbery like bracelet, Sam dropped his hand to go back to typing in the search box but found he couldn't focus for some reason today. He didn't like the way his thoughts kept going back to Dean, especially when he'd been trying for the past few weeks to avoid thinking too much of how things had changed between them.

For Sam, his earliest memories hadn't been of Mommy or Daddy taking care of him but his big brother. Four years old and Dean had known what to do for him even more or better than John Winchester had and Sam supposed he had felt some resentment toward John for that. Not for his sake but for Dean's since taking care of him had also robbed Dean of something…his childhood.

'Not that Dean ever would see it like that,' he muttered sourly, once again wishing things could be as simple as they had been…after Stanford. Even reeling from Jessica's death, Sam recalled that his brother had always been there for him even when he had just wanted to be alone with his grief.

Sam dug into his jacket pocket for something he'd pulled from the bottom of his duffel bag a few days earlier. Smoothing years of wrinkles out, he stared at the shaky writing of his eight-year-old self when asked to write a paper on the strongest person he knew, his big brother.

He remembered reading it aloud in class and then being confused when John pulled them out of school the next day and moved on to another town, another school after a scathing lecture on never calling attention to them like that ever again.

His Father's anger had been something Sam expected since he hadn't wrote about him, the harsh lecture was also something he'd gotten used to but having his paper balled up and thrown away hurt. He thought it had been lost forever until after Dean's deal had come due and he'd reluctantly gone through his brother's belongings only to find the wrinkled paper carefully folded in one of the duffel's side pockets along with several of Sam's other drawings and school pieces…including every report card and his acceptance letter to Stanford.

Already an emotional mess after burying his brother finally, Sam knew he had lost full control that night upon finding things that he believed his Dad had thrown out only to learn that Dean had cared enough to save them.

Tracing a crease on the paper, Sam considered bringing up the stuff he'd found but then decided against it. Since his return, Dean's emotions were more closed off than even when they'd been kids and Sam guessed he now knew why or at least a part of the reason why that was.

Dean still wanted the little brother he had left behind and Sam was finding it hard to be that man again, especially given the things he'd been doing lately so that was why the Siren had been able to snare Dean so easily. Now Sam was dealing with the daily consequences since he knew his apology wasn't good enough and Dean's moods were getting unpredictable.

Like this morning. It had only been a few days since he'd been released from the hospital after Alastair had nearly killed him but as soon as he was out Dean had them coming to this tiny river front town in Louisiana on a case that so far Sam was having no luck in researching.

On most mornings since learning about the Seals, the Angels and all that other stuff, Dean woke up grumpy, sullen and growling if Sam spoke a single word. This morning, on the other hand, his brother had been almost his old self which worried Sam for some reason he couldn't put his finger on. He knew he should be happy that Dean had gotten up first, went out for actual crappy diner breakfast and coffee and spoke normally. He still hadn't called him 'Sammy' which was something that really bugged Sam despite his hate for that nickname but something about the morning still put Sam's warning sensors out.

Deciding to give up on the research, Sam shut his computer down. Trying to choke the rest of his lunch down when his cell phone rang, he picked it up and was surprised at his disappointment that it wasn't Dean calling to see what he'd found out.

"Hey, Bobby," he greeted the Winchesters' mentor with as much energy as he could pull up suddenly while motioning for the waitress after a quick decision to take his brother back a piece of pie as some form of peace offering. "What's up?"

"Where the hell you idjits at?" the gruff no nonsense tone of Bobby Singer snapped over the crackling speaker. "I thought I told you once you got Dean released to head my way."

Guessing he should've been expecting this call, Sam winced like a kid caught with a cookie before dinner. "You know how Dean is, Bobby. He found this case down in the bayous that he wanted to look into but between you and me, I think it's a bust or…"

The sound of what sounded like Bobby hurling curses over a muffled mouthpiece could be heard before the older hunter came back on the line. "Sam, have you called Dean today?"

"Not yet, I was getting ready to before I head back," Sam admitted, pointing to the type of pie he'd like while packing his computer up and trying not to drop his phone. "I…I always call him before I go back just in case…I mean…"

"In case what, Sam?" Bobby knew he shouldn't have let those boys out of his sight after that Siren deal but nooo, he listened to them say they were fine. "In case he didn't want you to come back?"

Eyes looking back at the report again before slipping it back in his jacket, Sam sighed. "Just in case, Bobby," he really didn't know why he'd started calling Dean. It had started when he first got back from Hell. Then the calls had been just to let his brother know he wasn't alone and to check on Dean. Now, he called because he did want to be sure Dean was still there and that it was alright for Sam to come back since there hadn't been a morning that he honestly didn't expect Dean to walk out…especially after the Siren case or finding out that Sam used his powers to kill Alastair. "Did you want something, have a case that might be more exciting than what I'm…"

"Sam, there ain't no case where you're at," Bobby had been hoping he was wrong but after hearing the message he got when calling the older Winchester to learning that Sam had been sent to research a job that wasn't legit he knew he wasn't wrong. He knew that he had to get Sam back to Dean in a damn hurry.

"Say what?" Sam blinked, laying money down to cover the bill and a good tip before grabbing his computer bag and the sack carrying two pieces of pie. "No, Dean said there was a ghost or…"

This time there was no mistaking the sound of Bobby slamming his head into the desk along with a good long curse about Winchesters. "I swear, every damn time I thank God that you boys didn't get your brains from your Daddy one of you remind me that at times you are John's sons!" he snapped, looking for his keys while trying to trace the GPS in Sam's phone. "Call that idjit you call a brother, get your ass back to the motel and Sam? For once in your life, think before you open that mouth."

Staring at the phone in his hand, Sam muttered under his breath but tossed everything into the Impala's backseat before sitting behind the wheel and hit speed dial on his phone to call his brother with the intention of asking what he wanted brought back for dinner. Listening to the ringing continue after three rings made his concern go up a notch since normally Dean picked up on the first ring even lately but this time he heard the phone go over to voicemail and scowled.

Hating to leave a message on his brother's phone, Sam was about to hang up rather than listen to the normal message when instinct had him hanging on but instead of the standard Dean Winchester message that had been on this phone ever since Dean got it Sam heard a totally different message…

" '_Hey, it's Dean. If you're getting this…well don't bother leaving a message cause I won't get it. Sam, since I know this is you listen to the tape in the glove box and there's something in the trunk for you too. I'm sorry it came to this, kiddo. Take it easy.'" _ the message clicked off to leave Sam speechless and confused until finally he leaned over to open the Impala's glove box and found what appeared to be a brand new home made cassette tape with his name scrawled in his brother's handwriting and this morning's date on it.

"Son of a bitch," he growled, waiting to put the take in to go dig in the trunk but was surprised when he popped it to find that the usually messy trunk looked more organized and a medium sized box that was actually wrapped sat as if waiting for him. "What the hell, Dean?" Sam muttered, taking the box without opening it yet back inside the car to put the tape into the car's player and swallowed the lump that formed the moment he heard his older brother's voice come from the speakers.

" '_Morning, Sunshine. Damn, you remember when just dealing with crap like the Mystery Spot was the worst we had'" _ Dean Winchester's easy voice still sounded strained to the little brother who had grown up able to pinpoint every change in emotion. When he blew out a breath, turning serious and Sam's caution turned to full red alert by the time his brother began speaking again. " '_By the time you hear this you'll probably have figured out that there ain't a case around here. Just swamp water and 'gators which suits the ultimate purpose of coming down here but first…_

"_Sam, there's a couple things I need you to know and the first of those is that this ain't your fault. I'm making the decision to do what I never could when we were kids because if I had it would've left you alone with Dad and I wasn't willing to do that. I did what I could to give you the life that I could and while it wasn't what you wanted it was the best I could give. I hope that it was enough at one point because I know it's not now so I'm not going to force you to stick around but damn, kid…sometime in the time I was gone Dad's latent personality came out in you and it's all duty and obligation. I'm not your duty, Sam. I'm not something that you have to watch over just because I screwed up. I'm your brother…I'm just sorry that I'm still not the brother you could look up to.'" _ Dean's voice shook now despite the effort he was clearly making to record this calmly and Sam could hear the sound of his brother tapping his fingers nervously on the steering wheel.

Wiping a hand over his eyes to clear them, Sam wasn't surprised to feel the tears but he was afraid worse was to come when he heard Dean's voice break finally. " '_The second thing I need you to know is…you were right. I am weaker now and you sure as hell are a better hunter than I am which scares me to death since I really didn't want this life for you. Hell, I tried everything I could think of to keep you out of this life but in the end it was my fault because I was the one who wasn't strong enough to leave you out of it. That night in Stanford when you told me that I could find Dad on my own and I told you that yeah, but I didn't want to…I meant that. I was so damn tired of being alone, Sam because from the time you were six months old to the night I took you to the bus stop it had been just you and me and…I might've been the strong one but it was harder being strong when it was just me. So, here it is in full chick flick moment, little brother…_

" '_I never resented you. I never hated or resented that I lost my childhood to pretty much raise you since Dad sucked in the father area. I did what I had to so we both survived and while I wish I had done a couple things differently I can't change those now. I wish I would've stood up to Dad more for you but Sam I deflected what I could and for reasons that you don't need to know. You think no one was proud of you for doing well enough to get a full ride at college? Hell, I would've shouted it to anyone we knew…if we had actually known anyone but Caleb got tired of hearing it after about six months and threatened to shoot me if I mentioned your name again._

" '_The night you won that fancy award for something your first semester at Stanford, I was so damn proud of you, little brother. Yeah, I stood in the back of that auditorium as you got the award but I knew it was best for you to stay out of the life so I dropped something off at your dorm and left but I was never really ever that far away from California, Sam.'" _

Sam blinked the tears away now as he listened to the breaking voice of the brother that he had only recently seen cry and while the tape itself was alarming, the knowledge that Dean had been at school when he received that award was even more shocking. He could recall the loneliness he felt at that time in his life and how much he had wanted to call his brother but fear of getting John on the phone had always stopped him or that Dean wouldn't want to talk to him when something else Dean said dawned on him. He dropped something…

"Damn," Sam whispered, closing his eyes at how stupid he'd been. He'd returned to his dorm room after the ceremony to find a plain wrapped box outside his room. After doing the usual hunter inspection since he was still too cautious not to, he found the latest edition of a series of books he'd always read inside along with several hundred dollars.

Sam had believed that one of his few friends had left the gift since they knew he was always running short on cash and hadn't gotten around to finding a used copy of the book yet but no one seemed to know where it had come from. Now he did and that brought his attention back to the package in his shaking hands and the still running tape.

He noticed that Dean had began to ramble on about things from their childhood that would mean something to both of them as Sam opened the box and felt his breath stop. He still enjoyed reading which was a guilty habit his big brother used to love teasing him about but it was hard hauling around books in the Impala so he normally had to settle for online reading while in between jobs.

Now as he touched the latest paperback of his favorite series, he noticed a slimmer package in the bottom of the box and Sam stared at the slim ebook reader and accessories along with an envelope that carried what Sam knew without opening it would be every cent in both Dean's wallet and their emergency fund. Still staring at the box, Sam finally noticed the tape had switched sides and Dean's husky voice was back, only now it was sounding quieter, more tired.

" '_I hope you know how to use that thing, Sam because the lady at the store swore it had all the books in that series you always read and more. I just thought it was easier to lug around in your duffel than all those books though you'll have more room now. It's for your birthday since by now we both know I won't be around to see it. I wish I could give you more but you'll be alright. Hell, you survived better without me than you have with me since I got dragged back by the Angel patrol and since Cas will probably show up yelling, I want you to call Bobby. I want you to let Bobby do the salt and burn thing, Sam. It's over. You and Alastair were right. Hell broke me and I can't pretend to be strong anymore. Not like the man I was, the guy who raised his little brother. Dad never broke, I did because I wouldn't give that sonuvabitch the chance to…anyway, this was my way to say goodbye…to say that I've always been proud of you…even though your taste in women these days suck…okay, bad imagery and…take care of yourself. I love you, Sammy'"_

Barely able to jerk the door to the Impala open before he lost what lunch he'd eaten, Sam kept hearing his brother's broken voice over and over in his head as everything came crashing down on him. He realized why his brother had been so cheerful this morning, why he wanted Sam out doing research, why he'd…why before Sam walked out the door Dean had called him back long enough to slap him in the back of the head like he used to. It had been Dean's way of saying…

"Oh, hell no. You are not doing this to me," Sam growled, viciously slashing at his eyes while starting the car with one hand and speed dialing with the other even though he knew it was useless to keep calling his brother's phone.

Desperate enough to call even Ruby if he thought she could get to Dean in time, Sam swore violently when even that call went to voice and his shout to Castiel went unanswered, the young hunter calculated the distance between the diner and the motel but knew if Dean had acted shortly after Sam left this morning then… "No, Dean is not a damn coward. He wouldn't kill himself, he wouldn't leave…"

Terror filled Sam's heart as he realized that his own actions probably helped to push his brother to this choice. He had all but come out and told Dean he doubted him, that he wasn't the same, the he wasn't the same man who had sold his soul for Sam. Sam had also just given Dean more reason to doubt him by sneaking off with Ruby or spending time with her when it used to be just them.

"Damn it!" slamming a hand against the wheel, Sam veered the car dangerously close in a turn and knew if Dean was himself and found out about that move he'd pay for it painfully. Even knowing that Dean was still recovering, Sam was used to thinking of his brother as the strong one even when he wasn't. Now Sam would have to be strong for both of them or risk losing everything.

Hearing tired squeal on blacktop as he swerved into the parking lot of their motel, Sam hurriedly parked the car in front of their room and was barely aware of shutting the engine off or locking the car before he slammed through the door. "Dean!"

The shout seemed to echo back at him which nearly made Sam panic more when he noticed the closed bathroom door, the already packed duffel bags by their beds as if his brother had been making it all easier for Sam and finally he noticed the manila envelope on his pillow.

"Dean, where the hell are you?" Sam shouted while grabbing the envelope to dump its contents on the bed and dropped to his knees with a sob. The small gold amulet on its leather cord was the Christmas gift that Sam had given Dean when he was twelve. The silver ring that his brother always wore and two sets of rubbery bracelets were among the final items and Sam knew that one set was his brother's and the other was his…the one he buried with Dean. "Dean!"

Shoving to his feet, panic blurring his thoughts as tears blurred his vision Sam had taken a running step toward the bathroom door when he heard the shot.

**BANG!**

**TBC**

**A/N: **_One more chapter. _


	3. Chapter 3

**The Strong One**

**Chapter Three**

On the banks of a hidden alcove of water about sixty miles from where his life viciously changed no more than a week ago, Sam Winchester stared into the fire he'd built and tended to himself while tossing various items into the flames as it burned but found it hard to throw the final bloody item into the fire.

"Sam."

"Hey. How'd it go?" Sam didn't bother looking back since he knew the other man would join him by the fire in his own time.

"Well, I called in some favors to take care of the mess at the motel and I smoothed over the incident at the hospital. Which wasn't easy since you practically put the head of the ER in his own Emergency Room, ya idjit," Bobby Singer didn't bother to mention the strings and favors he'd called in to accomplish those feats since he knew the younger man was still emotionally on the verge himself and this wasn't helping. "Sam, why don't you let me handle the fire while you go inside?"

Hazel eyes locked on the fire to see things only he could, Sam shook his head while something else got tossed and made the blaze shoot higher. "No, it's my job," he replied, lowering his voice when he added while staring at the set of rubbery bands he held but didn't toss yet. "I'm a Winchester and I can't fail him in this."

"Boy, you didn't fail anyone," Bobby argued, knowing this was an old argument since he'd been trying to drill it into Sam's head since he arrived the tiny outlet outside of Shreveport, Louisiana only a few hours after Sam had called him from a hospital with the dire news. "Not your Daddy, not yourself and certainly not your brother."

Long ago learned manners kept Sam from laughing in the older man's face but he couldn't quite bury the snort that surfaced as he stared at the black bloody T-shirt he'd been gripping since he began the fire according to hunter tradition. "Oh, I failed Bobby. I failed or I wouldn't be out here right now."

"You burning the clothes?" this Bobby supposed shouldn't surprise him so he was glad he'd made that stop before coming back to the old fishing cabin he and Jim Murphy once shared ownership of.

"It'd bring more questions than I want if I tried to have them cleaned," Sam shrugged, finally giving in to toss his brother's black shirt into the blaze and blinked back the tears burning his eyes. "I'll just stop and pick up some stuff…whenever."

Hearing the way the boy's voice tightened, Bobby knew Sam was doing the typical Winchester thing when fighting to bury his emotions and once again cursed their late Father for teaching his sons that emotions made them weak. "You know I would've handled the burning and…"

"I just appreciate you clearing up the mess I made in the hospital but they were…" Sam shifted a look next to him before reaching into the bag at his feet for more bloodied items to toss onto the fire. "I couldn't leave him there, Bobby. I never should've called 911 and just handled it myself but…there was so much blood. I just…you and Dad always taught us to stay cool but…" he bit his lip as he looked at his own bloody shirt before pitching it. "I panicked."

Carefully laying a hand on the younger man's rigid shoulder, Bobby practically feel the waves of guilt and pain rolling off this boy. "No, you tried to save your brother is what you did, Sam," he responded seriously, glancing back to the cabin. "I told Nate to stay clear until he hears from me. Figured you'd want the time to…"

"I appreciate you telling me about this place. After the hospital…I needed out and I needed someplace private to…" Sam looked back to the flames with a grimness that worried Bobby. "…to do this. How much trouble was there?"

Debating on telling Sam the truth, Bobby decided it might take the kid's mind off what he was doing since he didn't like the way Sam was staring at the flames. "Couple friends handled cleaning the motel and I took care of the cops and the hospital but Sam? Next time, don't try to kill any doctors. It's harder to keep your nose clean if a supposed FBI agent goes postal on a medical professional."

"That 'medical professional' had just looked down his damn nose and asked me why my partner was still in the field with what was clearly a history of attempted suicides. He's lucky I didn't just empty my damn pistol into him," Sam gritted, fist clenching at the memory of hearing that and then swallowed the bile that threatened to come up again as he also remembered kicking in the motel bathroom door to find his brother's body with a pool of blood forming. "How the hell many times had he tried before this, Bobby?"

Scuffing the soft dirt around them, Bobby knew he wanted to avoid this subject but also knew that Sam deserved to know the truth so maybe he wouldn't take all the blame for this act. "I know of one time about a year after you left for school. Caleb told me that he, John and Dean worked a job, something happened between your Dad and Dean and John stormed out. Later that night, I guess Caleb said he stopped Dean from cutting the other wrist. This ain't the first time, Sam so you can't blame…"

"How'd I miss it?" the younger hunter cut in bitterly, finally just tossing the bag of bloody clothing and other articles into the blaze but stopped himself from throwing certain other pieces along with it. "I grew up with him, Bobby. Dean was always the strong one. If I had problems, he found a way to fix them so when the hell did it all change? How the hell did I miss how bad he'd become this time?" he turned away from the flames to face the next thing to a father figure he and Dean had and once again Sam's hazel eyes weren't the serious ones of late but they showed a confused, frightened boy whose world had just crashed. "I've been with him and I knew it was bad but I never saw him falling this far…I just want my brother back."

Taking the time to remove his battered trucker cap, Bobby coughed to cover the emotion he felt building. "Dean had too much of John's crap drilled into him too early, Sam. Your brother covered his own fears and insecurities with that damn cocky attitude and those one-liners he was always tossin'," he took a part of the blame for this since he'd known with the stress the boys had been going through that Dean needed to expend those emotions or crash. "I should've stayed closer, helped you boys out more or…"

"Dean didn't want my help half the time, Bobby so I know he'd've refused you hovering over us," Sam sighed, knowing all he had left were his old school papers but found that he couldn't burn those or the more personal items yet. He had to hold onto something. "Like you said, Dean was Dean. Even at the damn end he tried to protect me by making sure I wasn't around when he did it. I just wish I would've seen it and maybe I wouldn't have been so damn selfish. Always dumping my problems on him and still expecting him to make things right even when I'm telling him that I'm an adult."

"Son, Dean grew up protectin' you so that was just him," Bobby took a final look to the burning pile. "You staying here awhile?"

Nodding, Sam understood his friend's ultimate concern and shared it. "Yeah, for a few more days," he acknowledged, coughing. "You staying or moving on?"

Debating on how wise it was to leave, Bobby finally sighed. "Nah, I gotta lead on a possible hoodoo thing over Texas way so I'm gonna pop over there to check it out," he replied, keeping a hand on Sam's shoulder and was slightly relieved to feel some of the tension leaving it. "Jim left his share of this place to you boys so…you stay for as long as you need to, Sam," the older hunter told him, pausing. "I left a couple bags of stuff on the porch…just in case."

"Bobby…thanks," Sam called before Bobby had pulled away in his old car leaving the youngest Winchester standing alone in front of the moderate sized cabin. Looking to the cabin, he debated going back inside but after a couple moments made his legs move.

Taking the two large plastic bags that Bobby had deposited on the porch, Sam stepped back inside the cabin to feel the warmth of the fire he'd started in the stone fireplace and was surprised he could feel anything. Sitting the bags down, he emptied them on instinct and was forced to grin as he removed several articles of new clothes along with other things the older hunter would figure was vital to have.

Those he set aside to place the foodstuff in their proper place before he slowly sit down on the older style sofa to lay out the items he hadn't burned on the gouged coffee table.

His report cards, that old report on the strongest person he knew along with other drawings, essays and his Stanford LSAT score sheet…Sam wasn't sure he really wanted to know how his brother had come to have that since even he didn't still have a copy. What brought the tears back to his eyes aside from the amulet and ring that belonged to his brother were the notes addressed to him that he found in Dean's battered leather jacket. One was from when he'd been in Stanford while the other was written shortly before Dean's deal had come due.

"Damn it," reading the first note made rage surge in Sam for John Winchester yet again since he knew how much of himself Dean had given up to please their father but nothing was ever enough. The second letter was enough to bring back all the gut wrenching pain and loss he had felt those days after losing his brother to Hell. It also brought back the pain, guilt, and loss he was feeling now so Sam gripped the jacket tighter as a way to restrain the emotions that threatened to break free. "Why?"

"Back then it was because Dad had just thrown in my face every failure I'd ever made and decided he was better off hunting alone which sort of drove home the point that I was very literally on my own for the first time…ever," the weary voice replied grimly. "I'd always either had you to take care of or had been living up to Dad's expectations so that fight just left me too numb and with you at school there was nothing to stop me…except Caleb."

Always accused of having a vivid imagination, Sam had no problem picturing that night since he knew how deep John Winchester could cut without even trying. So if he had been trying to hurt his oldest son, the words would have been three times harsher but as his finger's closed on the amulet he felt the tears drop on his hand. "And this time? Why the hell'd you do it this time?" he demanded in a whisper, fighting to keep his voice from breaking, to not let it be known he was losing the fight against the feelings that had built since hearing his brother's tape.

"I guess it was a combination of guilt over what I did in Hell, guilt over leaving you alone for all that damn time without making certain you knew it wasn't your fault what happened. Guilt over knowing you thought you had to use…those in order to make a difference because you've always been just as good a hunter as me or Dad and finally I was just too damn tired of it all."

Hearing the sob escape before he could catch it, Sam felt like he was five again and just wanted to run to his brother to have the nightmares taken away but this time he knew he had to deal with the problems now. "I could've helped. I was there. Was it so bad that you felt that you couldn't talk to me?" he asked, still not moving. "You always were there for me. After Jess, after Madison…when we were kids there wasn't anything that I couldn't tell you so why…damn…"

Knowing he was going to break if he thought of what he had seen on that bathroom floor and later at the hospital when he'd gone for the doctor's throat after the final word had come down but when he went to move a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"I was the big brother. I was always supposed to be strong for you and there are things that you didn't need to know, Sammy and there still are."

Reaching back to grab the wrist of the hand that gripped his shoulder, Sam just wanted to be sure it was real and solid. "Gonna do it again?" he asked, keeping his face turned down until he could wipe it free of tears.

"Doubt it…you turn into such a damn girl over a little blood and a graze," Dean Winchester replied, moving so he could ease down on the sofa next to his still clearly upset younger brother.

Still pale from the loss of blood loss caused by the graze to his head, Dean winced a little as his head twinged slightly but was quick not to let his brother see he was in pain since as he learned quickly Sam was prone to panic attacks now if he thought Dean was in any type of distress. "You wanna get it over with now before either you bust a gut keeping it all in or you drive me nuts waiting for it?" he asked finally, glancing over the items laid on the coffee table. "I know you're mad about it, Sam but…" Dean broke off when he unexpectedly had to deal with an armful of overly emotional little brother who had finally had enough.

"My first memory, my first real memory, was of you sitting in my crib with me and letting me grab your fingers," Sam began in a hushed voice, having felt his older brother tense at the sudden hug but was relieved when he slowly felt a strong arm shift around him. "All my memories mostly revolved around you, Dean. You were always my foundation, not Dad but that didn't mean that you had to bear all the weight alone. We had Bobby, Caleb, Pastor Jim…any of them could have helped if…"

"And Dad would've gone postal if I had called on any of them," Dean told him seriously, surprised when Sam didn't immediately break the hug but didn't make the normal comment the moment he felt how badly the younger man seemed to be shaking. "I did what I had to and some of those times…were harder than others and I coped the best way I could at the time."

Eyes shut tight, a bitter childhood memory surged back and only Dean's arm holding onto him kept Sam from jerking back. "Cutting," he guessed, frowning. "Would you have ever…I mean, if you tried with Caleb…would you have…"

"You being there always kept me from going through with it, Sam," sighing, Dean really hated this but accepted it had to said or else Sam would always wonder what he'd done wrong. "I never cut myself. I just usually sat alone and thought about it, thought about what I'd be losing if I gave in to the damn urge but the main reason I never did it back then was because I wouldn't leave you alone with Dad."

Shifting so he could ease Sam back enough to look at his face, Dean felt the familiar pang he always did whenever his little brother was hurt and he knew that no matter how old Sam got to be he'd always want to find a way to fix that lost broken look. "Sammy, there will probably always be things I don't tell you…not because I don't trust you but because as your big brother it's what I do. I'm not asking you to like that but it's…how I am but I…will never keep something from you if I think you have to know it for a life or death reason," he declared, silently crossing his fingers since there were at least two things he never planned to reveal to his brother.

"I just don't ever want to go through this again, Dean," Sam told him, exhausted but refusing to sleep as he had been refusing to sleep since arriving here. "Listening to that tape, realizing what you were planning to hearing that shot and finding you…" the nausea rose too swiftly to be ignored or fought this time and Sam bolted for the kitchen sink.

He still could smell the blood the pooled out of the graze on Dean's head, he still felt the feel of it on his hands as he tried not to lose his phone while calling for help. Above all, he could recall the feeling of holding his brother in his arms once again as it seemed like he was bleeding out and his stomach emptied violently.

"I swore…I'm supposed to be the strong one…for you now…" leaning his head onto his arm, Sam felt his head swim and prayed he didn't black out when he felt something cold slap against his face but the cloth that was pressed against the back of his neck was held with an easy touch he remembered from childhood. "I'll…be good in a second, just give me…God…"

Leaning against the counter next to his brother, Dean took this time to examine their location since he hadn't seen much of it if he considered that Sam wasn't letting him move too much until now.

The cabin seemed familiar to him and after a brief search of his memory, he recalled their Father bringing him and Sam here one time as kids when he needed to do research with Bobby and Pastor Jim. The interior seemed well kept with just enough furniture for a couple people. He knew it had two bedroom but Dean would bet a months worth of pie that only one room was getting any use since he already knew Sam probably wasn't sleeping much…if he slept at all.

Dean closed his eyes for a moment. He knew from past experience that his head would be hurting for awhile but he had no intention of ever telling Sam about that job his worked solo about six months before going to Stanford after him that he'd been grazed in the head after a wild shot by an inexperienced hunter nearly killed him.

Keeping a hand on Sam's neck as he used to when he was a kid and sick, Dean squeezed it firmly while trying to recall the past few days. He remembered everything clearly up until the moment he heard the fear in his brother's voice upon his return and the .45 jerked at the last second of moving it. Things went blurry after that for him with only the occasional flash of what else happened.

Grabbing a clean rag to wet, he pressed it into Sam's hand while wrapping an arm around his brother to not so easily maneuver him back to the sofa. "Sammy, when was the last time you slept?" he asked, figuring what the answer would be even before he heard the mumbled reply.

"The night before you decided to put a .45 caliber round in your skull," flopping onto his stomach, another childhood habit Dean knew his brother reverted to when tired or sick and which wasn't easy considering his brother's height in comparison to the sofa, Sam opened bleary hazel eyes to watch his brother closely. "I'm fine…you need to rest," he argued, pushing up onto an arm only to find himself push back down. "Dean…"

"If I promise not to leave this spot, not to move from this room will you sleep for an hour, Sammy?" Dean asked, remembering a time when he'd been fifteen and had gotten sick while their Dad had been away that Sam had gone manic like this. "You couldn't have stopped me, Sam. I would've done something like that sooner of later because everything was just too much at once. I was still exhausted from coming back, from learning about Mom and Dad, to you, to that damn Siren…" lifting a finger to stop the apology that he knew would be coming from Sam, Dean sat on the edge of the coffee table. "Sam, I won't…I can't pretend to like what you do when you use those powers and yeah, I wish we could have back what we had when it was just us fighting evil…fighting Wendigos but…"

"You want the little brother you left back," Sam whispered, knowing this and wishing he could give his brother that but nearly recoiled at the hand that gripped his chin.

Ignoring the flinch he felt and saw in Sam, Dean narrowed his eyes though in a way he supposed he deserved the kid's fear considering how he'd been acting since the Siren and finding out about how Sam killed Alastair. "I want my brother period, Sam," he spoke firmly, having flashes of memory of hearing his little brother's broken emotional gut wrenching voice as he swirled in a darkness of pain and just wanting to reach out to remove that pain. "We've both changed in four months and it'll take both of us time to get used to those changes but the one thing that will never change is we're brothers. I may not like some of the things you've done and you may not like some decisions I make but at the end of every damn day, at the end of every job, we will be brothers and that's what I want. What do you want, Sammy?" he asked carefully, making certain to hold large hazel eyes with his own.

Blinking at that unexpected question considering it had been a long time since Dean had asked for his opinion on anything, much less asked him what he wanted, Sam had to think a second before he answered honestly. "I just don't want you to kill yourself over my mistakes, De'n," he yawned, unaware of dropping a letter in his brother's name while moving so he could reach out blindly as if grasping for something. "Just wan' you to still be proud of me…for something…anything…"

"Sammy…" Dean swallowed, going to run a hand through his short hair only to stop himself when he felt the bandage still wrapped around his head. "I've always been proud of you, Sam," he told him quietly, looking down to see the scattered papers. "I wish you could've taken this LSAT score and gone ahead to law school but no matter what you are I'll be proud of you because you're my little brother but you need to back off some now or I'll smother you in your sleep."

"Just wanna take some pressure off of you," Sam blinked, suddenly tired and fighting it but drew in a breath when he noticed his brother putting the amulet back over his head so it rest on his chest again. "I can be the strong one occasionally too, De'n. Just let me help or talk to me or…just don't scare me like this again…please."

Carding fingers he swore he wouldn't let shake through hair that he decided not to mention to Sam needed cutting again, Dean took a deep breath to settle his own emotions. "Okay, I'll try to let you take some of the weight and maybe I'll try to talk more than I normally do," he conceded reluctantly, slipping the silver ring back on his hand in addition to the black band before holding out the other set. "I think this belongs to you."

"I…left it with you when I…" Sam stopped, unable to say when he buried his brother but took the band with trembling fingers. "I thought you were dead, Dean!" those words just burst out to take both Winchesters by surprise but Sam carried on before his brother could come back or stop him. "All the blood and those doctors whispering and talking about you like you were dead and they wanted to put you someplace else and…why didn't Caleb call me before and…"

"Sammy…" Dean was quick to grab for the younger man before he fell off the sofa in his haste to reach for him. Watching his brother, he began to understand how much his actions had hurt the boy and Dean closed his eyes wearily. "I just was trying to do what I thought was right for you since I knew that you believed me to be…"

Lunging up, Sam's hands grasped his brother by the arms with a strength that reminded Dean that his little brother was also a lot stronger than he had been once as well. "You're not weak, Dean. You are still the strongest man I know and I don't give a crap if Dad didn't break in Hell. You lasted longer than I ever could've and if I could've switched places with…" he stopped when he caught the way his brother's eyes dropped. "Dean, you survived what Hell threw at you because you were strong. You did what you had to and I don't care what that was because it's over but don't shut it up inside all the time, alright? Let me help…unless you don't trust me."

"You're the only one I trust with my back, Sammy," Dean murmured, reaching up to grip his brother's neck firmly and pull it closer. "I may not like your choice in companions all the time but I know Castiel makes you edgy so we'll cope, we'll do what we have to in order to keep these Seals intact. I promise, little brother, I will never scare you like this again," he promised, voice husky as he decided to bend his no chick flick rule a little to move next to his brother to offer a tight one-armed hug that he knew Sam would accept willingly. "We good now or should I just prepare to have you hyper manic for the next few weeks?"

"Months," Sam mumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly in a way like he had when he'd been small and Dean would be trying to get him sleep. "You're not suicidal, Dean. Told that doctor that when he tried to…when he tried to take you to…you're…"

Dean did recall the hospital. He recalled the nurses and doctors who handled the graze and he knew as soon as they tested his hands what that outcome would be. A part of him knew that he needed to get him and Sam out before the cops or the shrinks tried to restrain him but it was then that he heard the shouting and the sound of his brother's temper soaring before he was signed out AMA.

"No, Sammy. I'm not and I…won't do it again…while you're here," he spoke quietly, voice gruffer with emotion as he eased Sam down on the sofa and sighed when his hand was gripped tightly as if in fear of being left. "I'll be here with you, Sammy. Go to sleep for awhile and…we'll talk about things after you wake up."

"Don't leave…" the mumble tore Dean's soul because he knew his brother was still worried about him either leaving him behind or taking his life again. "No blood again…don't want…"

Using his leather jacket as a blanket, Dean laid it over his brother before he sat still to watch Sam sleep until he reached for the report Sam had written as a child. "I don't know if I can be this man again but Sammy…I'll go back to Hell before you ever have to see or experience what I did," he spoke to the now silent cabin. Carding his fingers again through Sam's hair but smiled when his brother only moved to shake the annoying touch away which was so normal that Dean chuckled.

The thin annoying headache between his eyes reminding him of the graze, Dean was careful to put all the papers back in the duffel that belonged to his brother before noticing that Sam's rubbery band was clenched in his fist. "Remind me to call Bobby to find out just what the hell you did in the hospital too. I think I remember you throwing a doctor through the ER doors," he kept his voice low as he eased the band onto Sam's wrist and for the first time he noticed the thin scar on his brother's wrist, which stilled him. "Looks like I'm not the only one who needs to talk about some stuff, little brother."

Waiting to see, Dean smiled slightly the moment Sam rolled to his side while clutching the jacket. He knew it was safe to close his eyes for a couple hours as he eased into a worn out recliner near the sofa to sleep himself because now that Sam had been reassured that he wouldn't do anything he was more relaxed and able to sleep himself.

"I'll keep us both safe, Sam because you're right. Hell didn't beat me because I didn't let it claim you," he yawned, taking another look to be sure his brother was sleeping soundly before letting himself go under fully while muttering softly. "Love ya, Sammy and I'll call do over once one of us is awake."

"Can't do that, Dean," Sam called back sleepily, burrowing his face into a couch cushion. "Dean?"

Groaning, Dean felt like smacking his brother. "Yeah? Aren't you sleeping?"

"Promise me that you won't try to kill yourself again?" the quiet fear was there but only a brother who had raised Sam would have heard it. "I can't do this alone and well…no one can replace you, Dean."

"Damn straight," the older Winchester muttered with a typical smirk, nodding. "I promise, Sammy. Now go to sleep."

A soft mumbled " 'kay'" was heard as Sam fell to sleep fully and missed the flash of emotion in his brother's green eyes.

Dean slowly fell to sleep, knowing that Bobby Singer was probably close by since the older man wouldn't have left them alone this soon after what had happened. He mentally prepared himself for the ass chewing he'd get from Bobby for doing what he had, he was unaware of the trench coated figure in the corner who watched them.

Castiel frowned as he took in the sleeping Winchesters. He had kept his distance after learning that Uriel had allowed Alastair's release and that it had nearly cost Dean his life but now he watched the brothers sleep he also took in that a lot of the stress between them seemed to have vanished. As the one who had brought Dean from the Pit, he understood more than others what the young mortal had suffered below but he also knew the real reason that Dean gave in to the torments of Alastair and why he would never reveal that to Sam.

"I wish it could be different," he whispered, giving what he could to both hunters even though his superiors would frown on him giving any emotional or physical relief to Sam Winchester the Angel had quickly learned that to keep Dean's help it was always best to keep his brother safe. "I will protect what I can but you may not always be able to shield him, Dean."

After another look assured him that Dean and Sam were safe in the cabin and that Bobby Singer was parked up the road having a rather strong disagreement with a rod and a fish while he kept watch on his boys, the Angel vanished.

**The End**

**A/N: **_This is the end of this one. I know, I know. I was evil to draw it out whether or not Dean survived but blame the muse. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this story. I'm working on others including Mirror Images so stay tuned for new Sam and Dean stories._


End file.
